For in my heart I carry such a heavy load
by Seeroftodayandtomorrow
Summary: Dystopian AU. In a hostile society, two boys find solace in each others' arms. But when cicumstances force them apart, will they be able to find each other again?
1. Prologue

**A/N Hi everyone! So, the last chapter of Makes the heart grow fonder is being written, but this didn't want to wait any longer. This will probably be quite angsty. I will post warnings when they apply; for now, only sadness.**

Prologue

When Blaine comes home frome school, the front door is barred. He knows what that means, but he tries the back door anyway. Of course, it doesn't open.

He just stands there, in the front yard, he doesn't know how long. Still not believing. This is too much change, too soon. But then he sees the tell-tale moving box standing partly-hidden beneath the shrubbery, and even his subconsciousness can't deny it any longer. It has really happened. His parents have been divorced, probably already re-entered the system. They are not his parents anymore; he will never live with them, probably never even see them again.

Somehow, _they _must have found out about them fighting. He doesn't know how, they have always been careful, never rising their voices, sometimes even arguing in writing, but most of the time not saying anything. At all. Only trading hurt glances and heavy silences. He doesn't know how _they _found out, but _they _always do. _Their _precious society cannot abide fighting, not even in families. Those that are considered to be _harming the peace _are taken away, separated even from their children, remarried to someone more fitting, chosen by _them._

Blaine opens the box. It is nearly empty; they are allowed one box of keepsakes between the three of them, and his parents must already have taken what they had chosen, back when the fighting had been going on for a while and they had carefully re-packed the box, knowing that something like this could happen any time. He knows what is in there, but he looks through the contents anyway, carefully caressing each item before putting them away in his schoolbag; they fit easily. There is so little left of his old life now.

He lingers longer over the framed photo, his fingers tracing the lines of his parents' faces. The photo was taken a year ago, more or less, and his parents' loving smiles are already directed at their only child, not at each other anymore. Still, they look happy. They had still believed, back then, that they could work it out, that they could stop the fighting for Blaine's sake if not for their own. In the year that had passed, that turned out to be untrue. They started fighting even more, over the smallest things; they couldn't seem to stop themselves, and gradually, the hope in their eyes turned into fear, for no matter how unhappy they were with each other, they never wanted for this to happen.

Blaine turns the photo and sees a piece of paper hastily tucked under the frame. He swallows when he sees his mother's familiar handwriting.

Blaine, I am so sorry. We both are. We love you. Be happy.

There is no signature. The paper is tear-stained, and the last letter is smudged; they must have dragged her away before she was finished. It is a miracle they let her write at all.

Blaine sees what she didn't write. Go away. And he will. He made a pact with them, long ago, to put his name into the poll when he is old enough. It had been a hard decision, because they had believed then that they would always be together, that _this _was never going to happen to them. And yet they had wanted him to leave, to put his name into the poll to go to the island, because they want him to be happy and safe and they had known, even then, that he could never be that here. He is just starting to realize that, too.

Blaine puts the photo and the note into his schoolbag. He has to be going. He doesn't know how long he has lingered here, but he is sure it is almost too long. Normally, children go into the orphanage when their parents are divorced, unless the families have made other arrangements. And they have. The papers are written and filed, the money in the bank; he will not go into the orphanage. Still, if he is still here when _they _come, everything will be much more complicated and he will at least have to spend a few days in the orphanage until everything is sorted out.

So he rises, dusts his knees, picks up his bag and glances, one last time, back to the house where he has grown up. Soon, another family will live here, another child will live in his room and play with his toys, but that doesn't concern him. He will be living with his best friend's family, and that makes everything a little less scary, although Kurt and he have lost touch a little over the last two years or so. Still, he knows them well, Kurt's father and his stepmother, one of the most harmonious couples he knows, even though they were assigned. And he will be happy to catch up with Kurt.

So he wanders about town, on his way towards his new life, and cannot but imagine everyone knowing, looking at him with pity and a little disdain.

His eyes are dry.

He is ten years old.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N Warnings for evidence of a homophobic and pretty much brainwashed society**

Four years later

They are on the way to the city hall to get it done. It is a fundamental step, and the only one of this particular journey they can take together, so Kurt has decided to wait for Blaine, for nearly a whole year. As of yesterday, Blaine is officially fourteen years old, the minimum age to be able to put your name into the poll to leave for the Island.

As they stand in line in front of the dingy little office that houses the 'emigration department', they whisper excitedly. Blaine finds it hard to believe that after today, they will be able to leave in the foreseeable future, although 'foreseeable' in this case can mean anything from two weeks to about thirty years. Blaine hopes that it won't take that long, but he also hopes that neither he nor Kurt will have to leave in two weeks. The thought is...scary, to say the least. To have to leave the place that they hate but that is the only one they know, in favor of a completely unknown future...he feels to young for that, and, for him, it is still too soon after the last time he had to do this, albeit on a smaller scale.

It's their turn. They walk into the office, receive their forms and sit down to fill in their names and information. The only difficult part is when they arrive at the part 'reasons for leaving', but they just leave it empty. Everyone does, they have been told, except those who have a reason that is deemed acceptable by the government, and these practically don't exist. When they are finished, they put their forms into the envelopes and place them on the desk. Then they leave with a parting smile at the uninterested officiate. It hasn't even taken ten minutes. It seems...anticlimactic.

They walk home in silence. It's Blaine's home, too, he thinks of it as home, although it took him a long time to do so. And then Blaine thinks something, and he has to grab at Kurt's arm and stop walking.

"Kurt...do you think – if you get called first, do you think Burt and Carole will let me stay?"

"Still, Blaine?" Kurt quickly walks Blaine to a nearby bench, sits down with him and hugs him tight.

"Listen to me," he whispers fiercely. "You are as much a part of this family as I am, or Finn. Of course you will stay if I get called first. I thought you knew this by now."

"I do, " Blaine says. "Most of the time. Just...in moments like this...sometimes it's still hard to believe."

Things have been good, mostly, these past few years. Blaine still has nightmares sometimes. He dreams of the last dinner in his family home, his parents not talking to each other as usual and awkwardly trying to fill the silence by asking Blaine about school, but everything normal, unassuming. Only in his dream, Blaine knows that it is their last evening together, that he will never see his parents again after a hasty goodbye the next morning because he overslept and is late for school. He desperately tries to say something meaningful, to at least tell them how much he loves them, but he can't; he hears himself telling them about a homework assignment while his insides are screaming. Or he dreams of a dramatic goodbye scene that never happened, his mother trying to hold on to him and crying while government officials are dragging her away, and he wakes from his own sobs.

But most of the time, he is okay. Burt and Carole have been incredibly welcoming from the moment he turned up on their doorstep and it only took them a look at his face to know what happened, and he has become good friends with Kurt's stepbrother Finn, and Kurt...Kurt is so much more then a friend to him, he is like a brother, Blaine thinks, or even more then that. But what is more than a brother?  
Like now. Kurt is still holding him, and he seems to know the direction Blaine's thoughts have taken, because he squeezes tightly before letting go enough to be able to look into his eyes.

"Besides," he says. "Maybe I won't get called first. Maybe you will. Or we can even go together."

Blaine manages a smile as he imagines them together on the ship, on their way to the Island, but then he shakes his head.

"That will never happen, Kurt."

"You can't know that. Maybe it will."

It won't. The thing is, _they _almost never let people who know each other go together. Blaine doesn't know if _they _painstakingly check people for connections and make sure to only join those together that have none, or if _they _choose randomnly and there are so many wanting to leave that the chances of going with a loved one are extremely slim, but the fact is that they won't leave together.

Sooner or later, they will have to say goodbye, and what is supposed to be a happy event for them will be tainted because one of them will be left behind. The thought makes Blaine squeeze his eyes shut and grip Kurt tighter, but then he hears someone clear his throat.

"Boys. Break it off," a man in uniform says, and slowly, they let go, not understanding.

"No displays of affection between members of the same sex," the man says. "You know the rules."

"I was only comforting him, sir, " Kurt says, and the man nods. He does not look unfriendly for someone wearing a uniform, but his voice is stern.

"Still, we can't have that. It's okay, I won't report you, for now. But you should go home."

Quickly, they rise, nod their thanks, and leave. They make their way home in silence, knowing they were lucky and another policeman might not have been so lenient.

They know about the rules, but they never applied them to themselves. After all, they are just boys, just friends, and those rules are for...they are for people you only speak about in whispers, those that sometimes quietly disappear and then just as quietly reappear a few months later, with a newly assigned spouse and a blank look in their eyes. Kurt and Blaine know one of those, or so they think; whatever happened to him was too long ago for them to remember, probably even happened before they were born, but he sometimes wanders around as if lost, and no one has ever seen him smile. Kurt and Blaine go to school with his daughter, Rachel, and she is teased a lot for the weird ways of her dad, but she swears that he and her mom are a completely normal couple at home and that her dad just gets sad sometimes because he lost a good friend a long time ago.

They never thought a lot about Mr Berry, but now they wonder if he is one of those people. One of those homosexuals, Blaine thinks and resists the urge to look around him to make sure nobody heard him think. Blaine himself can't see anything about people loving someone of the same sex that is so disgusting as they are taught it is, but then he also can't see a reason for a government to interfere in people's home lives and taking children away from their parents just because those happen to fight, so maybe he's biased. But that's exactly the reason he has to leave, he thinks, he is too scarred to fit in properly anymore, even if there had been a chance to do so before.

So he is glad he gets to leave. But at the same time, he is very, very scared. His mind is in a loop, he is fidgety inside, and he can tell that tonight will be one of those nights he will not be able to sleep for a long time and then probably wake up crying.

But Kurt, as he does, seems to sense his discomfort, because he very discreetly takes his hand and squeezes once before letting go, and whispers without looking at him,

"Stay with me tonight. I don't want you to dream."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N Warnings for mentions of suicide. And a little internalized homophobia, I guess?**

Time goes by. None of them gets called after the first two weeks, and they are disappointed and relieved at the same time. They lay low, try to stay under the radar so their names don't magically disappear out of the polls as it has been known to happen. It is not always easy; Kurt practically screams 'notice me' even if he is silent, and Blaine is a performer with every inch of his being, and furthermore tainted by association by his parents' divorce, but they think they manage. No further incidents like that on that bench happen, and after that one night that Blaine spent in Kurt's arms alternately sleeping fitfully and crying without knowing the reason, he always sleeps alone in his own bed.

Then, one day he gets the mail and accidentally glances at a newspaper ad that announces the birth of a little daughter to Olivia Anderson-Campbell and her husband of four years, and he feels like that day again, when he stood in front of his barred childhood home and everything fell to pieces. He reacts the same way; he just stands there, unable to answer when Burt calls him, and they have to come out and bring him in, and no one knows what happened until Kurt takes the newspaper out of his hands and discovers the announcement. Blaine doesn't say a word for the whole day, and it's only at night when Kurt makes his way through the dark corridor into his bedroom and takes him in his arms that he's able to cry, and to talk. It's not that his mom was remarried for nearly the whole time since they were separated. He has known that, although he preferred not to think about it, but _they_ never take long to assign new spouses to divorcees. It's not even that they have a child; they are required to consummate the marriage, and contraception is illegal except for health reasons. It's that he has a little sister he will never see, never get to know, and that feeling he can't shake that he has been replaced. Blaine is ashamed of himself for that thought, but Kurt holds him while he sobs and doesn't judge him, and after a while Blaine is able to sleep.

A few days later he feels brave enough to look at the ad again, and he remembers a conversation he had with his mom a long time ago. He had told her he wanted a little sister to play with that should be called Beverly, and as he sees the name they gave the new baby, he knows that his mom has been thinking of him, and he feels nearly whole again.

Still, there are more nights now that Kurt has to hold him to ward off the nightmares, and Blaine feels weak and needy and more scared than ever of the inevitable arrival of the time without Kurt. He nearly hopes it will be a long time before either of them is called. Nothing happens, and sometimes it is easy to forget why they want to leave.

Then Rachel Berry doesn't come to school for a whole week, and when they see her sitting in class again, she is dressed in black and pale and quiet. They are told only that her dad died, but they hear through the grapevine that he killed himself. Even the biggest bullies stop their relentless teasing at this news; this is the kind of grief nobody deserves. Blaine has heard rumors that she isn't her dad's biological child, but that her mother got pregnant out of wedlock and was quickly and quietly separated from her lover and married to him instead. But it doesn't matter. Rachel was close to him, and he can't even imagine what she must be going through.

All of the kids are quiet for a few days after hearing the news of Mr Berry's death. Suicides happen, quite a lot, actually, but officially they don't exist, the people die of strokes and mysterious illnesses. Most of them have never known a person who killed themselves, so they are shocked. But none of them reacts as strongly as Kurt, Blaine thinks. Kurt seems not only shocked, but devastated, although he hasn't known Mr Berry better than any of them. He alternates between being eerily quiet and broody and fidgeting, distressed to the point of tears. Blaine doesn't know what's the matter, and he doesn't know how to help. He doesn't want to pressure Kurt to talk, so he just tries to silently signal that he's ready to listen. And finally, it seems to work. After a few days, late in the evening when Blaine has already gone to bed and is nearly asleep, Kurt knocks lightly on his bedroom door and sits down cross-legged on Blaine's bed. He is pale but seems determined, and Blaine sits up a little and invites him to talk.

"So, what is it?"

Kurt has to smile a little. "You're not surprised, are you? I should have known that you knew something was the matter."

Blaine doesn't answer, just smiles back. He knows that Kurt now just has to talk, or it will never come out.

"This is so incredibly difficult," Kurt says, so quietly that it must be mostly to himself, but Blaine hears him.

"I might lose you. You might not want to be my friend anymore after you hear what I have to say."

Blaine still doesn't say anything, although he can't help an involontary headshake. There's nothing Kurt could say that would make him lose Blaine's friendship. He takes Kurt's hand, and Kurt seems to calm down a little.

"The thing is, I'm – I think I'm like Mr Berry. I _know _I'm like Mr Berry. I'm attracted to boys. Men. And I don't know what to do."

His shoulders shake as he starts silently crying. Blaine is completely stunned by Kurt's confession, but he knows the only thing to do here. He takes Kurt in his arms and lets him cry, stroking his back as Kurt has done for him so many times.

"First, you are not going to lose me. I have never seen the problem with loving someone of your own sex, and you are my best friend in the whole world, and nothing could change that. But I see now why you were so distressed about Mr Berry's death. But Kurt, that doesn't mean the same is going to happen to you. You are going to leave, remember? On the Island, you can be whoever you want to be. You can be yourself."

Kurt is still crying. "But when, Blaine? I don't know when I can leave. And when I do, I have to leave you behind, and my dad..."

"But we knew that, didn't we? This doesn't really change anything. I know it sucks, Kurt, and I hate to say it, but we really can't do anything about it right now. Just wait, like we were always going to do."

"I know. I'm just so scared. What if somebody finds out and _they _marry me off to some girl before I can leave?"

"You're just fifteen, Kurt. It's three years before you can legally be married to anyone, and a lot can happen in three years. You may be gone by then. And until you go, we'll just keep quiet, okay? We can't tell anyone. Except...do you want to tell your dad?"

"No. No, I don't want to tell him. I couldn't bear if he – I just don't know how he would react."

"Kurt, he wouldn't – He loves you."

"They all do befoore their kids tell them something they don't want to hear."

Blaine falls quiet. They have all heard the stories of parents giving their children over to the government to be 'reeducated', and although he can't imagine Burt doing something like that, they can't be sure.

"Besides," Kurt continues. "It doesn't matter if he doesn't know. It's not like I can act on it, anyway." He laughs, but it sounds bitter.

Blaine takes Kurt's hands. "I'm glad you told me."

"Me too. And I'm glad you still want to be my friend."

Blaine lies down again and pulls Kurt with him. He is suddenly very tired.

"Of course I still want to be your friend." He is nearly asleep. "I will always love you."

He doesn't even realize what he's said.


	4. Chapter 3

The thing is, they don't really know anything about the Island, and what is worse, they have no way to find out. Talk of the Island is pretty much illegal, it is only done in whispers behind closed doors or, very rarely, in an official setting in form of 'Don't go there' – propaganda. They don't even know its real name, it is only ever called the Island, and they don't know how it will be to live there. They only know two things. The first is, they are pretty sure it actually exists. There are, of course, conspiracy theories saying that everything is only a ruse to get rid of unwanted elements of society, and everyone boarding the ships that leave for the Island will actually be killed, but it is unlikely. There are letters, though they are few and far between, and censored so that there are often more blacked out areas than actual writing, but they exist.

The second thing that they know is that they want to go there. Have to go there. They are not so naive to imagine that the Island is Paradise on earth or that the streets will be paved with gold, but they know that there, they will be free. The freedom on the Island is government-confirmed, although _they _call it anarchy and do their best to convince people that it is a bad thing.

Kurt seems...restive, Blaine thinks, impatient, as if waiting for something to happen. Kurt confirms it, one night as they are doing the dishes after dinner.

"I know it can be years until I'm called, Blaine. But I can't help it. I'm so restless, I feel it has to happen soon or I'll burst." He glances towards the living room, where Burt and Carole are watching some nature documentary on TV, and lowers his voice. "Ever since I acknowledged...you know...to myself, and to you, it has become more real, somehow. It is always on my mind, and I can't do _anything _about it, and it makes me crazy."

Blaine understands, and he does his best to calm Kurt down. It involves a lot of hot tea and cuddles in front of the TV whenever nobody is home, and Blaine is happy when they do that, but if he is completely honest, he gets sad when Kurt talks about leaving as if he just can't wait. There is no doubt in him that Kurt will get called first. As it should be, he thinks. Kurt is older and much more mature, he will be able to cope with everything easier than Blaine, who still feels like a child most of the time although he will be fifteen soon. And there is no immediate reason for Blaine to leave. He has a good home with Burt and Carole, and there is nothing he could be directly threatened for as Kurt would be if he came out. Yes, Kurt should – Kurt _must_ leave first. And yet. As much as we wants Kurt to be safe and happy, he wishes _so much _he would stay with him.

Of course Blaine will leave, too. He has signed up for it, and in the long run, he can't be happy here, not being able to show how he feels. To show his utter _contempt _for a society that takes children away from their parents and forces good people into suicide for not fitting in. That makes Kurt be afraid all the time, and Blaine too.

Since Kurt came out, it is somehow like everything has changed, although nobody knows and Kurt doesn't really act differently. But it makes their conversations with Burt, Carole and Finn – or anyone, really – stilted and awkward at times because they are afraid to somehow accidentally reveal something. They can trust nobody, and they only ever feel themselves when they're alone.

They aren't alone often

Still, they are together, which helps a little. They share small secret smiles, and Blaine discreetly lays his hand on top of Kurt's when he notices Kurt getting restless again.

They are scared to touch. Blaine tries to remember Burt's opinion on homosexuality, but he believes they never talked about it – which is entirely possible, because the topic is pretty much taboo everywhere. Blaine can't imagine Burt_ not _loving Kurt no matter what, but he doesn't know for sure. As Kurt has said, other children believed their parents would love them no matter what right until they were dropped off at some re-education center that would leave them with dead eyes and dead souls.

Weeks pass. Blaine's fifteenth birthday comes and goes. Nothing changes. They go to school, they come home, they eat and talk with Burt and Carole, sometimes they meet friends or go shopping. Nothing happens. And yet, they get worse, somehow. Blaine doesn't really know what it is that affects him so much, but he is hardly better off than Kurt. When they are alone, they cling to each other as if they are drowning. And in a way, they feel like they are.

They take to sneaking into each others' rooms at night and hold each other as they try to fall asleep. They don't talk much. They are afraid someone might hear them; besides, there is not much left to say.

But one night, as they lie in the darkness and listen to the sound of their breathing, Kurt starts to speak.

"I feel like I'm wearing a mask all the time. And I feel like, if I have to wear it much longer, I'll forget the face behind. I'll forget who I am."

Blaine hears the desperation in the calm words, and his heart breaks. He frantically searches for words as he begins to stroke Kurt's face, trying to reassure him.

"You won't. I won't let you. You are too amazing to forget. I love you." He is crying. He doesn't hear his own words, and he doesn't think before he replaces his hand with his mouth, letting his tears wet Kurt's face as he kisses his cheeks, nose and forehead.

"It won't take long now, I'm sure. Soon, you can leave. And until then, I'm right here. I see you. I'll always see you." There is no doubt in him as he finally kisses Kurt's mouth, hearing his surprised gasp before he kisses back. They kiss desperately, crying, not wanting anything except being close to each other.

They never question it, never ask what they're doing. They kiss until they fall asleep, safe in each others' arms.

They don't define themselves. They only kiss at any given opportunity and rely even more on each other than before.

Blaine doesn't question his sexuality. It doesn't matter to him. Kurt is pretty much his whole world; he has never loved anyone as much as him. The kissing doesn't change anything about his feelings. It only means they can find some happiness in each other.

They know they are in danger. Recent government propaganda has resulted in a streak of violence against anyone who doesn't fit the norms. It isn't officially endorsed, of course, but the perpetrators are punished with the legal equivalent of a slap on the fingers. Kurt and Blaine are teenaged boys, Burt owns a garage. They are pretty much without any social standing. They can imagine what would happen if anyone found out about them.

So they are even more careful not to seem too affectionate. Kurt takes to lock his door at night. If Burt or Carole wanted to see one of them after goodnight and found out, they would be suspicious and ask questions, but it is better then finding them together in Kurt's bed. They almost never touch where anyone can see them, but they are good at telling each other everything they want with silent glances.

Once, Kurt asks if they are doing the right thing. He is scared; they are in real danger now, and at least Blaine wasn't before. But Blaine is certain; he is happy to change the comatose safety of before for a chance to be alive in Kurt's arms.

"I know you have to leave me soon," he tells Kurt. "But until then, I want to be with you."

They still live in darkness. But they have found a little light in each other.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N Warnings for violence (nothing graphic) and homophobic slurs**

Things are better.

Blaine thinks it's because they have regained a little of their present. They live _now_, a little, instead of only waiting for something that might not happen for years, and that both of them anticipate with mixed feelings.

It is nice to have something to look forward to that will actually happen in a fathomable amount of time, even if it is only the secret smiles they share or the stolen minutes of kisses before they sleep.

Only there's nothing 'only' about this. Blaine's heart is so full now, and though he is afraid nearly all of the time, everything is good when he is lying in the darkness, in Kurt's bed, in Kurt's arms.

And he was wrong, before when he thought that his feelings wouldn't change, that the kissing was just a way to express them. It turns out that it also is a way to enhance them. He doesn't really love Kurt more then before, he doesn't think that is possible, but everything is so much clearer now, sharper, easier to grasp. When he's kissing Kurt, he feels like he has arrived, like everything in his life before this was only a way to get here.

They only kiss. Sometimes they feel like maybe they want to do more, but they don't really know what, and anyway, they aren't ready. Every step beyond kissing seems like a bridge they dare not cross. For now, kissing is enough. They are happy when they kiss.

Still. Weeks pass, and sometimes they feel like years. They are alone so rarely, and they risk so much just by being together. They are stifled here, and they both know that their complete reliance on each other isn't healthy, but there is no one else. No one to trust. Blaine knows that Kurt is weighed down by the changes in his relationship to his father. They used to be close, and now they hardly talk anymore because Kurt is so scared. Blaine can see, and he knows that Kurt can see it too, the puzzled looks Burt sometimes gives his son, as if he doesn't understand how they got there. And how can he?

Blaine doesn't try to get Kurt to come out to his dad. This has to be Kurt's decision and his alone. Blaine's involvement in it all doesn't matter, but because of it, he is scared of the outcome if Kurt should decide to talk to Burt. He doesn't know if it can be worse than now, but life has taught him that most of the time, it can. So he waits, and does nothing, and although he wants to help Kurt, he is glad that he doesn't have to make this decision.

Kurt doesn't say anything.

Blaine does his best to help Kurt and himself, but he doesn't quite know how. There is nothing he can do to change the big picture, so he tries to do little things. It is difficult because he has to be inconspicuous; he can't really show Kurt his love like he wants to. But he starts doing him little favors during the day, sharing his chores or doing them on his own if he can, and every smile is a reward for him.

But the smiles are getting fewer. Kurt is such a strong person, Blaine thinks, but he is also brittle, and if something doesn't give in soon, he'll fall apart. And then, something does.

Apparently, they're not subtle enough. They're walking too close together on the way home from school, their hands are brushing or their smiles too fond. Blaine doesn't even know. But some kids from school seem to feel offended by them and push them apart so hard they both fall and Kurt's shoulder crashes into the wall. They shout "Fags!" and laugh and leave with content smirks on their faces. Kurt and Blaine pick themselves up and go home silently, Kurt holding his shoulder and Blaine limping slightly because his foot got caught in a weird angle when he fell.

When they get home, they try to sneak unseen up into their rooms, but they are pale and visibly shaken and Carole knows something has happened as soon as she sees them, calls Burt and sits them down at the kitchen table to talk.

"It's not a big deal," Kurt says. "Some kids thought it was funny to push us. We fell. That's all."

"Who were they?" Burt asks.

"We couldn't see. They were gone too quickly." They saw them perfectly, but there's no use in telling Burt their names. What could he do?

And then Carole asks the dreaded question.

"Why did they push you?"

Kurt bristles. "Why do you think they need a reason?" But at Burt's look, he ducks his head and sighs. Blaine knows he contemplates lying, but Burt knows him too well; he would see through any lie.

"I don't really know. They called us 'fags', so I guess they thought...I don't know."

Burt nods. Blaine can see he has to fight to stay calm, but he doesn't know where his rage is directed.

"I see." Burt speaks carefully, thinking before every word. "I want to...report them, or go after them, but it would be no use, not if they say you did...I don't know. Did you...do anything?"

Blaine still can only look at his feet, and his face is a bright red, but he is honest.

"Nothing I can think of. We...might have walked too close together for their tastes?"

Burt nods again, slowly, and then he lifts his head and looks them in the eyes.

"You have to be careful," he says. "I don't really care how you act around each other when you're alone, or only with us, but you can't be seen as anything more then friends when you're in public. Don't touch, don't look at each other too long. I know it's hard, but you have to be safe until you can get out of here."

Blaine is not sure if he heard right. He is completely stunned, and he can feel Kurt beside him shift; his rigid posture relaxes as something in him gives in.

Burt knows.

They acknowledge it only by looking back into his eyes and nodding. They dare not say more, and they don't need to; Burt knows everything they want to say.

Carole rises, a small smile on her face.

"There is some cream in the bathroom cabinet you can use for your bruises," she says, and starts getting her bag and purse to go get groceries, as if everything was normal, as if nothing happened.

But they know something monumental has shifted.

They slowly climb the stairs, grasping each other's hands like a lifeline as they turn around the corner, not daring to look at each other or speak.

Kurt slumps down on his bed with his hands pressed against his face. Blaine can sense he is completely overwhelmed and probably close to tears, so he takes action. He gets the cream and helps Kurt take his shirt off, gasping as he sees the giant bruise that is starting to develop on Kurt's shoulder. He gently kisses it to make it better the way his mom used to do when he hurt himself as a child and then carefully applies the cream. He can feel Kurt relax under his touch, and although there is no cream left on his hands, he continues slowly stroking Kurt's shoulders and then his chest and belly. His heart soars as he takes in the sheer beauty of Kurt lying there with his eyes closed, traces of tears glistening on his cheeks but a small smile on his lips, and he can't help it; he has to kiss him. Kurt's response surprises him. He kisses back fiercely although it is daytime and Burt and Carole are just down the stairs, and Blaine just lies there and clings to Kurt's shoulders and thinks how dirfferent they feel without a shirt. And then Kurt's lips are on his throat and his hands are under his shirt, and Blaine stops thinking.


	6. Chapter 5

Kurt's letter arrives at the end of April, less than a month before his seventeenth birthday. He has two weeks to say his goodbyes and choose what little he can take with him, then he has to board the ship.

Blaine has just turned sixteen, and he feels like his world has ended.

Although they have never explicitly told Burt that they are leaving, he seems to have at least anticipated it. He isn't surprised when Kurt shows him the letter that is calling him, but nods and hugs Kurt with tear-filled eyes that tell of his quiet resignation, the grief at losing his son and his hope for a happier, safer future for him.

The first week is spent mostly in denial and paralysis. They go to school as usual, but Kurt tells nobody, doesn't say goodbye. He just sometimes looks around himself with an expression of fond nostalgia and almost-homesickness, and sadness. Most of the time though, he seems to be able to forget that soon, he will leave behind all of it, that the day that he hoped for and dreaded for almost three years is finally there.

Blaine can't forget. He looks at Kurt as though he is afraid to forget him, but he isn't; he knows he can never forget Kurt. He just wants to memorize him as perfectly as he is able to. During the day, he watches him as he has never before, he wants to learn by heart every gesture, every expression of the face he loves so much. At night, he traces Kurt's face and his body with his hands and lips for hours, memorizing the feeling of Kurt's skin on his.

Their kisses and touches get bolder every night. They share a feeling of urgency and desperation that overcomes any doubts or inhibitions they might have had. Their nights are magical, but tinged with sadness, and when Kurt finally falls asleep, Blaine often spends some time fighting sleep and watching and listening to Kurt's breathing as long as he can.

In the second week, they get into a frenzy of preparation. They can't procrastinate anymore if they want Kurt to be at least a little prepared; although it is hard to decide what he needs because they don't really know anything about the place he is going.

Kurt decides he wants to try and finish school on the Island, if possible, so he goes around and gathers his high school credits from the teachers. It is harder than they thought it would be. A lot of the government-approving teachers resent him for leaving and thwart him as much as they can, and Blaine hates them for it. But Kurt is unfazed. This is exactly why he's leaving, he says and starts brainstorming how to get what he wants. Blaine nearly starts to cry with how much he loves him, his strength and determination and his constant refusal to be brought down. Blaine is much more prone to let himself be worn away by the constant pressure and denial, and he doesn't know how to survive without someone picking him up again like Kurt has done all these years.

Kurt just keeps on fighting, and miraculously, the principal stands up for him. She chooses her words carefully, saying that while it is deplorable for such a young man to abandon his home, there is no reason to encumber his success on the way he has chosen, and they can tell she is sympathetic and wishes him luck.

The teachers, albeit reluctantly and grumbling, hand him the credit slips, and Kurt carefully puts them in the folder with his birth certificate and driver's license that he stores on the bottom of the small bag he is allowed to take with him.

Kurt has a hard time choosing what clothes to pack. Although the clothes he wears on a regular basis are much more understated than he would like them to be, he is still attached and wants to take all of his favorites, which won't fit, and it takes Burt's and Carole's efforts combined with his own common sense to get him to pack for practicality and warmth instead of style.

Blaine can't bring himself to care.

He finds it hard to keep his composure during the day and not start crying at any given moment. He also tries not to hurt Kurt on his last days home, so he reigns himself in at night, too, up to the point that the pressure is so much that he practically bursts into tears the moment he finds himself alone. Then he sobs violently for a few minutes, and then washes his face and shows the world his game face again, but he feels constantly close to breaking. Because how else should he feel when his love is going to leave his life and he doesn't know if he will ever see him again?

Kurt on the other hand seems more excited than anything, and although Blaine really wants to be happy for him, he can't help but be hurt by the fact that Kurt apparently does not care much about leaving him. But as always, Kurt seems to know what's bothering him, and so, on his last but one night at home, he takes Blaine in his arms and holds him so tight it hurts, and says,

"I can't believe I won't be able to do this anymore. I'm going to miss you so much."

Blaine's eyes brim with tears once again, and he whispers,

"I didn't think you care. You seem so excited."

"I am. But Blaine, I'm also scared, and so, so sad. I just don't show it, because I know you are sad, and dad is sad, and Carole and Finn are sad, and if I would seem sad as well, all we would do was cry the whole day."

Blaine has to smile a little at the image, but then his eyes flow over and his shoulders start shaking and he cries in Kurt's arms, and Kurt strokes his face and his back and it isn't until Blaine touches Kurt's cheek that he notices that Kurt is crying, too.

On Kurt's last day home, it is really like that; someone always seems to be crying. They check one last time if Kurt has packed everything he wants to take with him, the clothes, the documents, the photos and keepsakes and what little money they can give him, and then they don't know what to do anymore. All goodbyes have been said. They had just planned to enjoy each other's company today, but as it is, they don't quite know how to do this, and after some awkward silences and some speeches that are even more awkward, they settle on playing board games that nobody really cares about.

Blaine has lost all inhibitions and clings to Kurt like he is the only thing that keeps him from floating, as he is. They gain a few odd looks from Finn, who hasn't seen them so affectionate before, but Blaine doesn't care. After today, there is no one there whose hand he wants to hold, so nothing will stop him now. And there is still one thing he wants to do today, if he can find the courage.

In the end, it is easy. After a quiet, sad goodnight, they walk up to Kurt's room, and before long, they are kissing desperately, and Blaine really can't help but look into Kurt's eyes and say with a voice that miraculously sounds sure and steady,

"I want you to make love to me."

And Kurt doesn't even hesitate before he breathes,

"Yeah. Yeah."

Blaine had to go to places he doesn't care to remember to clandestinely acquire the information and supplies he needs, and he wonders if Kurt has done the same, because he absolutely seems to know what he is doing as he starts kissing Blaine everywhere, worshiping his body until Blaine is falling apart. He gets lost in the feeling of Kurt carefully stretching him, and as he slowly enters him, he looks up and marvels at the sight of his love who is so beautiful he seems to be glowing, and is completely overwhelmed. It is awkward and wonderful and heartbreaking, because it is the last time, the only time, and somehow they can't forget that. At some moment, they both start crying, and when it is over, they hold on to each other and kiss their wet faces and smile around their tears.

Kurt leaves before dawn.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N Short chapter. It feels weird to post this so soon after this week's episode, but most of this was written before, so...**

**So this deals with loss, and grief, and missing someone.**

Blaine spends a lot of time in Kurt's room. He doesn't even do anything, just stands in the middle of the room and tries to fathom what his mind has, but his soul and heart have not yet understood: Kurt is gone. He sleeps in Kurt's bed. He hasn't washed the sheets. He has to, and soon, but there are still traces of Kurt's scent there, and sometimes, in the morning before he is quite awake, he breathes in with his eyes still closed and gets lost in the illusion that Kurt is there beside him. For a moment, he is happy, but everything crashes around him the moment he opens his eyes and reality closes in on him and he can't deny it anymore. He is alone.

Once, as he wakes up, he starts sobbing uncontrollably and doesn't know why. It shakes him; he has to sit up and clutches the sheets and tries to calm down, but he can't breathe, and then his breath comes too fast, in loud clenched gasps and he presses his hands against his mouth and is scared of himself. The pathetic thing is, it isn't right after Kurt left or a day or two later, but _weeks_, and he thought he is getting better, that it gets easier. Or maybe he has just gone numb, tried to escape the pain by not feeling anything at all, and that doesn't work anymore.

So he does what he does so well. He pretends, he pretends to get by, then to be better, then to be fine. But inside, he is empty and aching and scared, and so lonely it hurts. And guilty. Because he sees others around him hurting as well. He sees Carole come out of the bathroom with puffy eyes, and he sees Burt looking more tired every day, and he knows it's because he can't sleep for worrying about Kurt. Blaine sees all of that, and he tries to care, to maybe offer comfort or reassurance, but he doesn't. All he does is to feel better for a moment because he isn't alone in what he feels, and then his walls close again.

They do not talk to each other, not about important things. Sometimes, accidentally, someone mentions Kurt, and they are silent for a few awkward seconds and then change the subject. Blaine knows that they all feel similar things, and yet everyone of them is so alone in their pain. Blaine sometimes thinks he should initiate something because they could offer each other understanding if not comfort, but he hesitates and ends up not doing anything. How could he, who is not even part of their family, want to change the way they grieve?

Strangely, Blaine doesn't worry about Kurt. He knows Kurt is resilient and capable; he will take in stride anything and everything that awaits him on the Island. So Blaine's only excuse for his pain is that his best friend _who is so much more than a friend _is gone and he is lonely, and it seems selfish.

So, occasionally, Blaine tries to get over it. He tells himself that it isn't like Kurt is dead, that some day, in a few weeks, months, years he will follow him and find him and see him again. He makes an effort, gets together with a friend or two, tries to have fun. Sometimes he succeeds, but most of the time he doesn't, so he pretends to have fun. He's good at this, and so his friends don't leave him completely, although most of the time they don't seem to know how to act around him any more.

There's the social stigma, too. They didn't anticipate this, but they should have; it's only logical, after all. One of their family left, and although Blaine doesn't shout it from the rooftops, it is widely known that he applied, too. Some people do not want to associate with them anymore, others might still want to, but are scared to do so. It affects the garage, too, not enough to worry, but noticeable.

It makes Blaine feel even more guilty, how could they not have thought of this? For he will leave too, some day, but Burt and Carole and Finn will stay. It seems terrible when he thinks about it like this, like they are running away and leave everyone else to deal with the fallout. He knows that Burt and Carole do not think like this, though. He know that although they miss Kurt as much as he does and are worried sick about him, they are happy for him, too. They know he has never belonged here and that he was in real danger, and they know that about him, too. Even about him. They wish him well, too.

It helps a little.

One day, as he once again stands in Kurt's room, he knows he can't put it back any longer. So, methodically, he begins to strip the bed, and it feels like saying goodbye all over again, and to stop the tears that are threatening to fall, he begins to talk. Just like that, to the empty room, but really to Kurt. There are many things he has wanted to tell Kurt, but didn't; he forgot, or it didn't seem so important then, and then it was too late. So he says them now, to the familiar room that listens and doesn't judge, just like Kurt.

"I don't know how to be without you."

This is the first that comes to mind. It is also the most true. For so long his life has revolved around Kurt, he doesn't know what to do now, he feels like he has no place in his own life. It feels good to say it out loud, though.

"We never talked about what happens now. Are we...waiting for each other? Whatever I do here can only ever be temporary, but you...there...will you wait for me?"

"You never said you loved me. Do you...did you love me, Kurt? I wish you had said you loved me."

"Will I ever find you? And what will you think when I do? Will you still want me?"

"I love you. I miss you."

He has all these questions he never asked, didn't even think to ask, because he knows that they can't really be answered. He doesn't know when he will be called. It can be tomorrow, it can be in twenty years. Anything is possible. Who could say what will happen in twenty years? There are no answers, and so it only fits that there are no answers now.

But he really wishes that, just once, Kurt had said, "I love you."

"I don't know how to be without you. What do I do now, Kurt? It's not only that I miss you. But everything is so boring now! Really, what did I do with myself the whole day before I was with you?"

He has to laugh at himself. It hadn't occurred to him until now that boredom was really part of the problem, but it is; everything they had done, _before, _they had done together. What can he do by himself? But this is something he feels he can handle. He is sure he can find something he likes to do, and then his days won't be so empty anymore. He feels like he's one step nearer to some kind of mark, some kind of goal he wants to reach, and it feels good.


	8. Chapter 7

So Blaine tries. It's not always easy; he still misses Kurt like a part of himself is gone, and he doesn't think that feeling is ever going to go away, or even become less until he gets called too and can go and try to find him again. But he can live with it, and he actively tries to find some purpose to the many empty hours that are his to fill now. He starts playing music again. It has always brought him joy, and it connects him to Kurt. They used to sing together, before the world started to weigh too heavily on them to allow anything but silence. So he digs out his guitar and even gathers the courage to ask Burt for the use of the old piano in the living room. Miraculously, it is not too out of tune, and after playing a few pieces with fingers that feel hesitant and wooden, he quickly regains his confidence. After a few days, it becomes his habit to sit down at the piano after dinner, and the rest of the family gather to listen and sometimes even, hesitantly and timidly at first, to sing with him. Blaine revels in the feeling that his music can bring joy to them, too; he knows they can use a little joy just as much as him.

About a year after Kurt's departure, they get a letter. It is short and heavily censored, but it is in Kurt's handwriting and has the words 'I'm fine' in it, which is really all they need. It also says 'All my love', and Blaine starts crying even though he doesn't want to, because he can feel, he _knows_, that Kurt thought of him when he wrote this.

There's not much real information in the letter, nothing that will help Blaine find Kurt when the time arrives, it has either been blackened out or not been written in the first place. But there are two curious things about the letter that tell them something or rather make them wonder what they tell them. The first is, it is written in pencil that in some places is badly smudged. The second is revealed when they turn the paper; the letter is written on the backside of one of the credit slips that Kurt gathered from school.

So what do they make of this? That there is no paper on the Island, no pens? That there are no schools? That Kurt doesn't need his credits, that he doesn't want them, that they are no use to him?

Blaine takes one thing from this: That anything he wants to achieve intellectually, academically – anything he wants to _learn_ – he has to do here. He doesn't know if this is true, of course – there can be countless other reasons for this, the most simple being that Kurt goes to a school and he has a file there and they added the credits to the file so that he doesn't need a piece of paper as proof.

But Blaine prefers to be prepared, as much as he is able to. So he takes as many AP-courses as he can fit into his schedule, even in subjects he isn't remotely interested in. He doesn't know what he may need, after all. He spends whole afternoons, whole weekends studying, and while it isn't his preferred way to spend his time, he doesn't really mind. It keeps him from missing Kurt too much, apart from that dull ache he can always feel in his heart, and he likes the feeling of doing something, of actively preparing for his new life once he gets called. Even if it is make-believe, because he doesn't really know if anything he learns will be of any use to him there.

In the evening, he plays his music.

He graduates with honors.

He spends the celebration in a haze. The most prominent thought in his head is disbelief. It's been almost two years since Kurt left, and yet Blaine is still here, graduating, expected to care. What is he even doing?

There's nothing he can change, nothing he can do to speed the process. So he waits, and prepares.

He doesn't even try to go to college. He has 'Applied to leave' stamped all over his papers, no college will accept him. The same goes for any job that goes beyond making coffee or waiting tables.

So he just adds more hours to working in the garage to help earning his keep, and alternates between working on cars, serving customers, and doing paperwork. He still wants to learn as much as possible about as many things as possible, so he watches Burt and the other mechanics closely, and he asks Carole to teach him cooking, gardening, and basic medical care, and Burt to show him the basic sewing he learned from Kurt. When he feels there is nothing more for him to learn at the house and the garage, he enrolls in community college, booking courses in architecture, dressmaking, agriculture, basic engineering, baking, building, archery; anything he feels could be of use to him some day. He enjoys the learning, some of the courses are fun, and he meets some great people. He would have made friends, but he tends to keep his distance. He sees no use in making friends that he would be sad to leave when the time comes. He is really just waiting now.

Once, as he is sent to get coffee for Burt and himself, there is a new barista at the coffee shop, and he looks Blaine once over and then looks him in the eyes and smiles a little too long. Blaine doesn't think much of it at first, but it happens again, and again, every time he visits the coffee shop. Blaine is confused. Is he...does he want...is he giving him a sign? Blaine doesn't know what the signs are. He suspects there must be some, because he knows there are more men like him and Kurt and no one would ever dare to actually _say _something, so there must be ways to...recognize one another? Signalize willingness, availability, or at least No-I'm-not-going-to-tell? But Blaine doesn't know what the signs are. How does one say all these things when the risk of being betrayed is so high? When the consequences of being found out are so severe?

He thinks about it. If he really is being...propositioned, what does he want to do? There has only ever been Kurt for him. There has never been anyone else, he has never _wanted _anyone else, but now...Kurt has been gone for so long, and Blaine has nearly given up hope of being able to follow him anytime soon. There has been nobody since Kurt left, only his own hand when he masturbates, quickly and guiltily, in the privacy of his bedroom to images of their last, their only night together. He longs for some kind of connection, even if this could never be anything permanent; but he is so rarely _touched _now, just touched...and after all – why not?

So the next time he walks into the coffee shop, he meets the barista's eyes and smiles back, and watches the barista's smile grow bigger. He drinks his coffee, leaves the shop and waits at the back door for the barista's shift to end.

He is nervous; what if he misunderstood? What if not? What if the barista shows up with some friends and beats him up? It seems an eternity until the guy shows up, and Blaine almost backs out several times, but in the end he comes. They share another shy smile and then, without a touch, a word, or even eye contact, they leave and walk the short distance to a small apartment, where Blaine is awkwardly offered a drink. He declines and stands expectantly – he doesn't know the protocol, but he expects at least an introduction and some small talk, but instead the guy just walks up to him, cups his cheek in his hand in a surprisingly tender gesture, and kisses him.

It feels weird. Blaine thinks that he never actually kissed someone – Kurt – while standing up, so that is different, but that isn't all. He didn't think it was possible to feel so little while kissing. When he kissed Kurt, it felt like the whole world was coming into place, that everything, including himself, was settling where it belonged. But this? The feeling of connection, of belonging that he was seeking simply does not appear. All he feels are the guy's lips on his, the guy's tongue in his mouth, and it is...nice. Nothing special, but nice. As the evening progresses, he thinks the same about the guy's hands, his lips on other parts of his body. Nice. As he leaves, he is a little disillusioned, but quite content, and when he gets coffee the next time and the barista smiles at him questioningly, he smiles back, but shakes his head.

He has done this, he needn't do it again. He can wait for the real thing, for Kurt.

He doesn't touch another person in this way for almost five years.

His letter comes on the morning of his twenty-fourth birthday.


	9. Chapter 8

There are some tears on the day he leaves, even on his side. He will miss Burt and Carole and Finn and the people from his classes that he somehow is friends with even though he tried no to. But mostly he thinks, _It's been eight years. _Eight years since Kurt left. Eight years that, for Blaine, have been mostly like waiting in line, and though people may be sad to see him go, they recognize that most of him has been gone for a long time already. That he was merely biding his time.

He feels ready. Prepared, as much as possible. He is not a scared child anymore. He is twenty-four years old, and he has a wide range of really miscellaneous accomplishments that at least some of have to be of use to him in whatever society he is going to. But there are two things he is nervous about, so nervous in fact that he tries not to think about them at all and yet can do nothing else.

They float around in his head until he can barely feel the excitement over this journey anymore, and he has one of these moments that attack him from time to time, when he needs nothing more than Kurt to hold him and ground him – but he can't. He's not here, and Blaine wouldn't be worried in the first place if he were, because of course he is nervous because of Kurt. Will he ever find him? And if he does- which is a big 'if', because he doesn't know how big the Island is and he has no clue whatsoever where to start searching for him – what will he say? Will he still want him? It's been eight years – surely he has made himself a life over there, a life that just maybe includes another person. What will he say if Blaine suddenly shows up and disrupts all that?

In the end, it doesn't matter much. There is no way in the world Blaine is not going to look for Kurt. He can't not. The thought of seeing Kurt again has often been the only thing that kept Blaine going all these years, and although it makes him feel selfish, he holds on to the hope that maybe, maybe Kurt will be happy to see him again. That maybe...Blaine doesn't want to think it, it seems too much and really selfish to hope for that – that maybe he has waited for him.

His ship is an old-fashioned sailing vessel that is just on the right side of decrepit. Blaine doesn't know much about sailing – that was one topic his community college classes have not covered – but he feels fairly certain that this ship will get them safely to the Island, at least withstanding major storms.

As he boards the ship carrying his small bag and his guitar that he managed to get a permit to take, he feels adventurous, and he takes in his surroundings with wide eyes. There don't seem to be any cabins, and Blaine notices the people in the small queue before him getting handed blankets and being allocated spots on the deck to set up camp. The lack of comfort doesn't faze him; it makes him feel even more like a pioneer, but it seems to disillusion some of his fellow passengers, one of whom begins to complain loudly. Blaine is hit by the reality that not only free spirits and outcasts make up the population of the Island – it is certain to have its share of douche bags just like any other place on earth.

Then he reminds himself not to judge anyone until he has at least slept one night here. He has no idea how long this journey will take.

As it turns out, it is long – long enough that Blaine more than once curses his makeshift bed after waking up with a hurting _everything. _Long enough to get used to relieving himself in front of strangers, and to emptying his bucket into the sea. Long enough to not expect anything else than canned food and hard bread, and to wash himself and his clothes with salt water to save the fresh water for drinking. Long enough to have gotten seasick, and to have feared for his life in a storm.

Long enough to make friends.

Blaine makes friends easily, always has; and without the ever-present fear of appearing too friendly, too affectionate, he discovers that it is in his nature to be open and helpful. He is popular also because of his guitar. There is not much to do on the ship, and after the excitement of the first few days wears off, people are grateful for the entertainment to relieve the monotony. He plays for them in the evening, and they listen and sing with him and ask for songs, and, somehow, one after the other, they tell their stories. Because of course, here on this ship, everyone has one of those. After all, you don't leave everything and everyone you know for a completely unknown future just on a whim.

There's the young girl who was raised by completely government-loyal parents, parents so conservative they even followed the non-mandatory and very old-fashioned advice of choosing a spouse for their children. She put her name in the poll at fourteen years old after having been told that she was engaged to a family friend whom she was supposed to marry as soon as she was eighteen, and considers herself lucky to have been called at sixteen.

There's the boy who just wanted away, but when his letter came, his parents refused to let him go and even locked him in the basement for two weeks until a friend let him out just in time to get on the ship, and he literally has nothing but the clothes on his back.

There's the old woman who was very government-loyal in her youth but changed after her daughter was killed by a mob who found her too different. She put her name down shortly after that, but had to wait for nearly twenty years to be called, and spent all this time repressing her grief, anger and fear.

There's the man whose wife put her name down before they met. She was called six months after their wedding, and he applied on the same day. Now, twelve years later, he follows her.

Blaine cries at that, it hits a little too close to home.

He sings for the people, he listens to them telling their stories, and he laughs and cries with them – but he hasn't told anyone his own. He is still too afraid. At home, people are brought up to think his love is disgusting, perverted, and while he knows that none of the people on this ship is what they call a model citizen, he doesn't know what they think about it. He isn't ready to face their rejection, not here, not on his way to a future where he doesn't have to be afraid anymore.

But of course, one day, someone wants to know. Tara, the girl who was supposed to be married, has his guitar on her lap and randomly plucks the strings, and then she stops, looks at him and asks,

"So why are you here?"

And Blaine is silent.

So long that she starts to apologize,

"I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to..."

And Blaine thinks, if he is going to not be afraid anymore, he might as well start now.

So he tells them. It is a cramped space, there is really no way to tell just her, although she is one of those he feels closest to. But he starts talking anyway, tells them about his parents being divorced and him going to live with his best friend's family, and how, over the years, he slowly falls in love with this friend. He tells them his name,

"Kurt."

And no one points their finger or walks away in disgust, and though he thinks he sees a trace of distaste in some people's eyes, he could easily be imagining that.

Tara puts her arm around his shoulders and says,

"I hope you find him", and he thinks that his new life is starting pretty good. He smiles and takes the guitar from her, and starts playing.

They see land after six weeks.


	10. Chapter 9

**I'm late, I'm sorry. Blame general lack of inspiration and real life. Also, this should be the second to last chapter, if everything goes as planned.**

It's raining when they arrive. As Blaine and his fellow travelers stand at the railing to watch their new home draw near, the view is anything but welcoming in the dreary weather. But even with blue skies and the sun shining, his first glimpse of the Island would have been nothing like Blaine expected.

There is no real port, just a crudely-built pier in a natural bay. Then comes a dirt road which is more like a mud road now, and then...nothing much. No city, not even a village, just a few simple brick houses, some even simpler wooden ones and, on the outskirts of the settlement, a few make-shift shelters that often are no more than a blanket draped over some branches. Blaine even recognizes the blanket; it is the same one they were given at the beginning of the journey that is now sitting rolled-up on top of Blaine's bag because they were told to keep it.

There are not a lot of people to be seen, which is no surprise in this weather, but one lonely guy whose ill-fitting hoodie doesn't do much to protect him from the rain is standing in the mud like a would-be welcoming committee.

They grab their bags and hesitantly prepare to leave the ship, Tara clutching Blaine's hand and for the first time on the voyage looking like Blaine feels: all of a sudden, very much afraid. Leaving the ship is like leaving home all over again, for despite being crowded and uncomfortable, it has been theirs for the past six weeks.

They slowly move up to the guy on the shore, who in spite of the gloomy surroundings is looking quite cheerful. He looks like a tour guide, and he even sounds like one when he starts to speak.

"Hey everyone! I'm Kyle, and I was chosen to leave my cozy and nearly dry home to come here on this fine day and give you the welcoming you deserve."

Blaine likes Kyle. He seems friendly, and although he looks like he's been standing in the rain for quite some time, he doesn't seem to hold a grudge. Blaine is also excited: this is the first time he will learn something of substance about the Island; at least he hopes that this is what is happening here.

"I'll make this short, as we are all not getting any dryer here," Kyle continues.

"People have been coming here for only about forty years, so we're pretty much still in the pioneer phase. We don't know what was here before us. There are some ruins, that's where we get most of our building materials from. Now this charming sight behind me is not the only settlement we have here, nor is it the biggest one; you are free to roam the Island and settle where you like it best, but I would advise you to stay here for some time to learn what you can and maybe get a few things you need.

As to that, we have no currency here, so any money you brought, you can use it to start a fire once it's dry enough that one will burn or you can give it to the friendly sailors who brought you here."

Blaine is somewhat surprised by that announcement – a society without any money seems so strange to him. But it doesn't matter much to him, he isn't here to get rich, and he doesn't consider the little money he brought too much for his ship passage. But most people around him react differently. He can hear several people shout "What?" incredulously, and one man unceremoniously tosses his whole bag back on the ship.

"But how will we buy things?" Tara asks finally, and Kyle smiles.

"You don't. You get things in exchange for work, or for other things. Let me warn you, though. We don't have much here. We have enough to eat, because the land is fertile and we have enough people who know how to farm, so no one will have to go hungry. Everything else is sparse. You will soon learn not to waste anything, and your work will be most appreciated if you should actually be able to produce something."

Kyle explains the workings of the Island – that there is no overall government, but most settlements have elected a leader of sorts, and that when the need arises, the leaders of the settlements will meet. That most people will help them if they ask, but that in general, they are expected to fend for themselves – there is no housing plan for the newcomers, and they will have to make to with temporary shelters until they find a place, the materials and the help to build.

Sometime during his speech the rain stops, but Blaine hardly notices. He is completely engrossed in Kyle's words – this is now his home, after all, and he should know how things are done here – but at the same time, he is shuffling his feet impatiently. He wants to get going to find Kurt, and now that he is actually here, on the Island, it is hard to find the patience to wait the additional few hours or days it will take until he is able to start his search. So he awkwardly stands there until Kyle has finished speaking and answering questions, and the other travelers begin to walk off to find the driest spot to set up a shelter or disperse into smaller groups to determine what to do next, and then he shows a picture of seventeen-year-old Kurt to Kyle and asks,

"Do you know him? He came here about eight years ago."

"Who's he? He's cute."

Blaine is...completely stunned by that comment. At home, no man, no matter his sexuality, would ever have openly commented on another man's physical attractiveness. At first he feel a little irrational jealousy, but then he is just happy, and he decides, once again, to be brave.

"That's Kurt. He probably doesn't look like this anymore, it's been so long...He's – We used to be lovers."

And he could never have anticipated how good it feels just to say this word to describe his and Kurt's relationship. Kyle's smile doesn't falter at all.

"I've only come here five years ago," he says apologetically. "I don't think he's still here, though, I think I would at least know his name."

Blaine has expected that, but he is still disappointed.

"You could stay here a few days, ask around?" Kyle suggests. "People travel between settlements, maybe someone knows where he lives."

"I'll do that, thank you," Blaine says, genuinely grateful but silently determined to stay one day at the most, and then he goes find Tara, and they set up camp under a tree that has kept off most of the rain. He has a hard time falling asleep because he is just too excited – tomorrow, he will finally, _finally _start looking for Kurt. He also discovers that sleeping on the ground on slightly wet land is not much more comfortable than sleeping on the ground at sea.

The next day, Blaine and Tara go from house to house and ask about Kurt. Tara has no one she is looking for herself, and as she has nowhere specific to go, she and Blaine have decided to go looking for Kurt together. They have not decided what they will do once they have found him; they just don't talk about it, mostly because a part of Blaine fears that Kurt will not want them to stay with him – that he will not want _him _anymore. He hopes that Tara isn't as unsure about their relationship. They have become good friends on the journey, and she is like a little sister to him, although she is older than his real sister that he never got to know.

None of the people living in or visiting the harbor settlement know Kurt or have seen him recently. A few people remember him from eight years ago, but apparently he hasn't stayed long. Blaine isn't too disappointed; he has some great conversations, gets offered breakfast and learns that while the Island is not small, it isn't that big either – it should be possible to find Kurt. He helps patch a roof that didn't make it through yesterday's rain in exchange for some food to take with them, and around midday, he and Tara are on their way.


End file.
